


Heaven's Light

by AccursedLover



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, FFXV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 13:04:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12277038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccursedLover/pseuds/AccursedLover
Summary: Ardyn was once a mortal, like those he had saved. He had hopes, dreams, and even love. He had been healing a village when he met her.





	Heaven's Light

He was but a young boy, not even on the cusp of true manhood, when the Six called upon him. First heir to the Lucian throne, and brother to a boy twice below his age. It had all happened rather suddenly. The Crystal that had been held aloft by sturdy ropes within the throne room had begun to glow. Its light was warm, pleasant, even inviting. The eldest prince had stepped toward the heavenly glow, unaware of what was to come; blissfully ignorant of the enormous responsibility that the Gods were thrusting upon him. The elder son of the first king was suddenly engulfed, and before him, stood the Draconian. His impervious, blue and gold armor shone brightly with the same, ethereal glow that had emanated from the crystal,

“O’ blood royal,” He bellowed, his monstrous voice nearly deafening the small lad, “It is time for you to go forth unto battle,”

“Battle?” The child’s voice was barely even a whisper, “I am but a child, sir. I cannot fight.”

The Draconian’s cobalt eyes stared down at the boy that stood in his armor-clad palm, “It is not a physical battle, child,” He began, “It is one of spiritual origin.  Your kind are being overtaken by a terrible sickness. One that is caused by the very daemons that terrorize your homes.” A moment of silence passed,

“Why do you need my help, pray tell?” The boy finally inquired, his golden eyes staring up at the old God, “Can’t you do it without me?”

“No, child,” the gargantuan warrior responded, “We cannot aid your people, for we do not have the power to vanquish the foul beasts that plague the lands.” A bittersweet smile had appeared beneath the Draconian’s helmet, “Only you can rid this world of darkness.”

“Only I?” His face lit up, *I can do what the Gods cannot?* “O’ great Draconian,” he spoke to the holy figure with a puffed out chest, “I shall do what is asked of me. I shall heal the people of my home- nay, of the world. I swear to thee that I shall rid the people of this plight!”

“We trust in thee, O’ prince of Lucis.” The Draconian rumbled as the light began to swallow him, “Keep thy vows, and heal thy people, Ardyn Lucis Caelum.”

He had awoken from his meeting with the elder God, and found himself in his bed, surrounded by his family. He had told of what had happened,

“Papa,” he piped, “I met the Draconian! He says I have the gift of healing!”  The sudden frown that had down turned his father’s lips, and the tears that began to streak down his face, should have been a warning to the unwary child. However, the weight was not felt until his eighteenth birthday.

_So many times out there, I've watched a happy pair of lovers walking in the night. They had a kind of glow around them It almost looked like heaven's light._

He was never allowed to leave the castle walls since his encounter with the Draconian; a foul mistake that his father had made out of fear.  Whenever the youth found himself unable to sleep, he would go out onto his balcony, and gaze at the people down below. Men, women, children, all living their happy lives like he had once lived his. To the prince, they all seemed to glow with a warmth that rivaled the sun itself.  Deep within him, something stirred; something dark that clawed at his heart.

_What is this feeling?_ He placed a hand to his chest as he searched for a meaning to the sinking feeling in his soul. However, there was no answer.

“You should be in bed, brother,” a low voice whispered. There was a somewhat-noticeable air of bitterness to the words.

The healer-king to be looked over his shoulder to see his younger sibling standing behind him, “I am well aware, Izunia,” he replied smoothly, “Alas, I cannot sleep.”

“Perhaps some tea will relax you,” the suggestion had come rather suddenly, “I had one of the servants make some. Would you like a cup?”

“Such a tempting offer,” He replied as he turned away from the street below, “But, I am afraid that I must decline. I shall retire for the night. Sweet dreams, little brother.” He had walked passed Izunia, and headed for his bed, where he would be undisturbed for the remainder of the night.

_I knew I'd never know that warm and loving glow, Though I might wish with all my might No face as hideous as my face was ever meant for heaven's light._

His face was hidden by the hood of his mantle, and the collar of his tunic, preventing all from seeing his supposedly holy face. He had been instructed to keep his visage out of sight, even if those in need wished to thank him. Deep within his heart, lay a bitter hatred for such a stifling rule. However, he had made no attempt to mention it to his escorts. Gilgamesh, his shield, always stood near him, keeping the enamored masses out of the healer-king’s path.  The young king had been summoned by a wealthy family in a fishing village near Wennath River. Their daughter had fallen ill with what they claimed was an unknown disease, and they begged him to heal her.

He and his retinue had arrived just after sunset, and began preparing for the ritual as soon as they had dismounted their worn, black steeds. The healer-king had entered their house, and entered the daughter’s bedroom,

“Good day to you, little one,” he greeted her warmly, as he had done to those he had healed in his homeland. He felt his heart break when he saw the weakness in her dull, green eyes. To see a child in such a dire state was a new ordeal for him to overcome. He strode over to her bedside, and sat upon a wicker chair. He carefully took one of her pale hands,

“Do you know why I have come?”

“Mommy and daddy said that you were going to help me, your Highness,” The girl’s voice was weak; just barely a whisper.

“And help you I shall, my child,” he crooned. He scooted closer to her, and pressed his forehead to hers. Like water flowing through a stream, the holy words poured out of his mouth, “Blessed stars of life and light, deliver us from darkness’ blight.” A soft light filled the room, ridding the child of the hideous, black splotches that dotted her flesh,

“Your daughter has been saved,” he informed the parents calmly, “However, she is to stay on bed rest for three days.”  He and his entourage had stayed at the village that night. However, the selfless man had stayed by the child’s bedside, watching over her like a shepherd over his flock.  So far, things had been remarkably easy for him, but things would soon change. At dawn, he and his men departed, and headed toward the area of Longwythe, where an entire village was said to host the selfsame affliction that the child had been cured of.

_But suddenly an angel has smiled at me, and kissed my cheek without a trace of fright._

They had been in Longwythe for several days, tending to the ill village from sunrise to sunset.  His retainers had tried to aid him, but it was the holy King himself that had done most of the work. Cleaning linens, changing bandages, and administering potions. The work had the poor soul exhausted by the time the moon had risen. However, that did not stop him from visiting with a young maiden whenever he had the time. She had lived in a house along the outskirts of the village. It was a rather crude home, almost as though it were built by a nomad. It had a straw roof, and clay walls,

“Eliza,” Ardyn had called softly into the bedroom, “How do you fare?”

“I fare well. Though, this blasted fever will not leave me be,” Her response was filled with irritability.

“I know, dear,” he crooned as he placed a cool, damp rag onto her forehead, “You must have patience. It will take quite a while for the illness to leave you.”  He would not admit it, but he found himself charmed by her. He would often find himself laughing at her jokes, and he had even caught himself staring into her deep, heaven-hued eyes, and shivering at her sweet, gentle voice. However, the people that she lived among had deemed her mad for her strange lifestyle; she was a headstrong warrior who helped to defend the village; a role that, to most, was exclusively for the men,

“Here, drink,” He held a cup of water to her parched lips, “You need to keep your fluids up.”

He had cared for her for nearly a week before she could even stand on her own. Even then, she was still very weak; he even thought that the Six were going to take her. Regardless, she had managed to survive. After the seventh day, the healing troupe had gathered their items, and were ready to head back to Insomnia. The prince had strapped on his bird’s saddle when Eliza approached,

“I thank you for your aid, your Highness,” she said as she watched the king-to-be load his saddle bags.

“There is no need to thank me, dear one,” he responded, “I was merely doing my job.” He hadn’t noticed her sudden approach until he felt soft lips graze his cheek in a chaste kiss.  He could feel his face heat up as though he were standing before Ifrit’s flame,

“What....what was that for, pray tell?” He turned his cognac gaze to her, his cheeks still burning bright red, like freshly forged steel.

“To show my appreciation for you, your Highness,” A giggle bubbled forth from her lips, “Do not tell me that you have never been kissed before,”

Before he had a chance to respond, his shield had called out to him, “Your Highness, we must leave at once if we are to return home before nightfall.”

“Right,” he sighed and mounted his chocobo, “Fare thee well, fair maiden.”

“Safe travels, your Highness.” She smiled bittersweetly, “And do write me when you get home, won’t you?”

Without a response, Ardyn and his men rode off toward Insomnia, unaware of the darkness that loomed on the horizon.

I _dare to dream that she might even care for me And as I ring these bells tonight My cold dark tower seems so bright I swear it must be Heaven's light._

The sun had sunk beneath the horizon line when they had returned to the ever-bustling Crown City. The stars that had begun to appear shone brighter that they had done a mere night ago. At first, he had given credit to the Six,

“They have guided our way,” he had said with utmost certainty, “I shall go to the altar and give them my thanks.”

“Allow me to accompany you, your Highness,” Gilgamesh ordered in his usual, gruff manner, “I shan’t let you go alone.”

The healer-king had agreed with an understanding nod, “As you wish.”  He rode his trusty steed to the nearby cathedral, wherein he began his trek to the shrine within.  The halls were dark, and sparsely lit by candle light. Each dancing flame trembled as the two men passed them by. Climbing a long, spiraling staircase, they came upon the old, wooden door that led to the extravagant shrine,

“Gilgamesh, will you wait for me here?” The order came gently, as though he were speaking too a lamb.

“Of course, your Highness.” the shield replied, “I shall keep watch here until you return.”

“Thank you, my friend,” The Chosen King carefully pulled the heavy door open, and stepped into the small room. He closed the door behind him, and lit a stick of incense as an offering to the Six. The small flames that lit the room revealed the massive, gold etching upon the walls. It was of the Six, fighting an unidentifiable force. Around that, were a vast array of paintings that depicted the prophecy; the King of Light, dispelling the darkness. Silently, he knelt before the altar, and clasped his hands in prayer,

“O’ great redeemers,” He began, “I come to you to offer my thanks. My men and I would not have made it home safely, had it not been for the stars you had placed in the heavens. I thank you for every day you have given us, and I thank you for the bountiful harvest we shall no doubt consume in our home.” He paused for a moment as the memory of Eliza invaded his mind,

“If I may, I have something to ask of you,” the prince finally spoke up once again, “Please, let Eliza recover from the scourge that I hath removed in your name, and I ask that you forgive her, for she knows not what she does.” He slowly rose from the floor, and turned to leave, feeling a light, warm breeze brush passed his face; there was no opening in the walls. The King-to-be exited the shrine, and descended the spiral stairs with his trusted shield. The two remounted their avian allies, and returned to the great, stone castle. There, his aging father had greeted them with open arms,

“Good evening to you both!” He had rumbled, “Come! The others are waiting for you in the dining hall.”

The prince had followed unquestioningly until he had noticed a small detail, “Father, where is Izunia?”

The King sighed, “He was feeling a tad under the weather, so he retired early.”

“Without supper?” _How queer..._ The three of them entered the vast dining hall to see that nearly every seat was filled. People of varying occupation sat before a rather large banquet. Servants, knights, gardeners, and even maids were all sitting together, and enjoying their food. At the head of the table, sat his mother; a fair-skinned, blond-haired woman who was often very sickly. The two empty seats closest to her were for her husband and elder son; both of which had eagerly taken their seats.

Soon, every soul in the castle had bid one another goodnight, and had gone to bed.  The prince, however, did not. He stood out on the balcony, looking out over the remaining people on the streets below as he had done three nights ago. He could still see the warm, heavenly glow that danced among the families and couples. However, the doleful sensation that had once clawed at him had not come. Instead, a feeling of warmth radiated throughout his chest as the bells in the nearby clock tower announced the time,

Eliza, I thank you for showing me love when everyone else could not. He sight blissfully as he turned away from the street and headed inside, May the gods watch over thee. He crawled into bed, closed his eyes, and fell into slumber; dreaming of the woman who had stolen his heart.


End file.
